


The Phone Call - Robert and Liv  (6th March 2017) (canon compliant)

by BoleynC



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10150490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoleynC/pseuds/BoleynC
Summary: This is my imagining of Liv and Robert's evening on the 6th March 2017. In the special episode we got a lot of Aaron (and oh dear lord that hurt), but I wanted to explore more of how Liv and Robert are feeling.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know we have some rough stuff coming up for this family (I won't even mention what in case you don't want to know the spoilers), and I thought getting into Robert and Liv's heads might make it a bit easier? 
> 
> I wrote this super quickly after watching the episode, so please forgive any mistakes/lack of quality. I just had the dialogue in my head and had to get it down!
> 
> Please comment if you enjoy!

Liv slopes into the back room at just gone four, Noah wandering along beside her. It’s rare to see those two together by choice, but Robert doesn’t think anything of it. At least them being in the same place at the same time makes them easier to keep an eye on. 

“All right?” Liv asks, by way of greeting. 

“Tea’s at five,” Robert says. “Fish fingers and chips.” 

“I hate fish fingers,” Noah complains, screwing up his nose.

Usually, Robert would snap at him that he’ll have what he’s given, but not now, not today. Robert’s too stressed to have a sulking Noah on his hands. 

“Right, er, well I’ll do you chicken nuggets.” 

Noah makes a face as if to confirm that’s an acceptable offer. 

“You done much up at the house?” Liv asks. “It’s bound to be finished soon, right? ‘Cause it needs to be done for when Aaron gets back.” 

“Aaron’s gonna be inside for a year,” Noah points out, tactlessly. Robert doesn’t even have it in him to sigh. 

“No, 'cause Robert’s sorting his appeal,” Liv fires back as though she can’t possibly imagine him failing. It’s oddly touching, the level of trust Liv has in his abilities, but daunting too. “He could be back in months. Weeks, even.” 

Noah shrugs, not wanting to argue. He misses Aaron too. He's a good person to sit and have breakfast with.

"Adam's doing a good job," is all Robert reveals about progress at Mill Cottage, determined not to concern Liv with knowledge of the graffiti. Liv is like a mini Aaron. She'll only stew over it otherwise.

“So how was school?” Robert tries, changing the subject and doing his best to seem upbeat and domestic. “Not getting any trouble?” 

Noah opens his mouth to speak, but is silenced by a killer glare from Liv. Robert is so busy keeping his own false smile fixed that he misses the gesture. 

“Boring, as per,” Liv declares. “Still don’t see why I need algebra.” 

She decides not to answer Robert’s second question. He’s so distracted right now that she knows he won’t pry. He hasn't even noticed she's been skipping school since Aaron went inside.

“Yeah, mine was boring too,” Noah agrees, following Liv’s lead. “Had P.E., though.” 

Noah secretly hopes that Robert will ask him about it. His mum never does, because she doesn’t care one bit about sports, but he scored a pretty great goal in the inter-form match today and he thinks Robert might be impressed. But Robert doesn’t ask him anything else, so Noah keeps it to himself. He might tell Liv later, he thinks. Maybe. 

There’s a moment of awkward silence where nobody knows what to say. This arrangement’s still new, the three of them living together, and they’re all on their best behaviour, or at least, pretending  to be. 

“You need any help with tea?” Liv offers, looking at the shadows under Robert’s eyes. 

“What? Oh, no. It’s easy. Just bung them in the oven. I’ll give you a call when it’s ready.” 

Liv blinks. That phrase could have come right out of Aaron’s mouth. Robert’s been doing that a lot recently, using Aaron-isms without even realising. 

“Right. Fine. I’ve got homework,” Liv says, leaving the room, ponytail swinging moodily behind her.

Noah stays where he is for a few more seconds. He isn’t the most observant of kids, but he can see that Robert’s struggling. It’s a lot less fun than it should be, having a guardian that lets you get away with just about anything. His mum isn't exactly on the ball, but that's just who she is: sort of useless and sort of not. Robert, on the other hand, is supposed to be better than this. He's usually strict and kind of scary if you give him cheek, but right now he's like a different guy. 

“I don’t mind having fish fingers,” Noah says, suddenly. 

Robert frowns. It makes him look even older.

“Before I was just being…” Noah trails off, not sure how to explain himself without looking stupid. “I’ll have the same as Liv.” 

With that he darts out of the room, hoping that by the time he gets up the stairs Liv won’t be shut away in her bedroom with her headphones in. It’s lonely when she does that.

+++

Tea goes fairly well. Robert doesn’t burn anything, which is something considering how often he finds himself losing track of the time and staring off into space, worrying about Aaron. Usually, he’s a fairly good cook. Not a patch on Vic, of course, but with enough skill that he can rustle something nice up for Aaron of an evening and feel proud of himself. But right now, all of his energy is spent on Mill Cottage, on the appeal, and on making sure Liv and Noah are washed, clothed, and fed every day. It’s draining him already and he doesn’t know for definite when Charity and Chas are coming back. 

Liv and Noah don’t argue at the dinner table, and Noah eats his fish fingers without complaining. Robert keeps staring over at his phone which is sitting on the kitchen top, plugged into the charger. It’s still an hour until Aaron’s due to call, but he can’t help but watch the mobile, irrationally worried that it’ll go off early and he’ll miss it. It’s impossible, he knows, because Aaron’s not allowed to call until six, but the fear still lingers. He feels like he’s going mad. 

Liv notices that Robert isn’t really with them in spirit, and pushes her food around her plate uneasily. Noah, in turn, watches Liv, worried that she’s barely touching her dinner. At one point Liv notices and makes a fierce face at him. Noah goes back to eating his own meal in silence. 

Occasionally, Robert makes conversation. It’s hard finding common ground with a pair of teenagers at the best of times, but now it feels like trekking through quicksand. Liv is quiet and sullen, obviously missing her brother and their usual banter. Noah is still a puzzle to Robert, and he thinks the kid’s probably still a bit scared of him after he found out about the fake account he was using to troll Liv. Robert feels slightly bad about that now. 

Liv has her phone out at the table, something which Robert usually forbids, calling it bad manners, but these days she doesn’t have it there to text. She watches the time go by, minute by minute, waiting for six o’clock to come. Occasionally she gets an alert, but apparently trying her best to be polite, she quickly dismisses it and sometimes even turns her phone over for a while until she wants to check the time again. 

“Have we got dessert?” Noah asks, when they’ve finished eating. (Liv and Robert have hardly touched their food.) 

Liv tuts at him, as though she can’t believe all he can think about is filling his stomach. 

“Ice cream in the freezer, or fruit,” Robert says, in monotone. 

“Can I go to the pub and get something from there?” Noah asks hopefully. “There’s chocolate brownies on the menu.” 

Robert puts a hand to his forehead, absentmindedly rubbing at a frown line forming there. 

“Fine. Tell Vic I said it was okay. And don’t go bothering the punters.” 

“I won’t,” Noah promises, putting his knife and fork together (because he’s trying to be helpful), and getting up to leave. 

The time is half five. Noah looks from Liv to Robert, noticing their similar pensive expressions.

“I won’t bother you or anything when Aaron calls,” he tells them nobly. “I’ll go to my room if you’re talking.” 

“Yeah, you’d better not,” Liv snaps, narrowing her eyes. 

Noah pauses for another moment. He thinks about his conversation with Liv earlier, and her skiving, and about all the trouble she’s getting from the lads at school. He smiles at her, surprising Liv into dropping her scowl. 

“Good luck with Aaron,” he tells her. “You should tell him the truth.” 

“The truth about what?” Robert asks, sitting up straighter, a frown on his face.

Liv looks momentarily like she wants to strangle Noah, but covers it in a second, rolling her eyes as though it’s nothing. 

“Just that I’ve been missing him,” Liv tells Robert seamlessly. “Noah saw me welling up about it like a baby the other day. But I’m fine now. You know how it is. I was extra emotional cause of hormones.” 

As always, the period excuse saves her, because Robert (who is admittedly far more sensible and matter-of-fact about this sort of thing than Aaron) just nods his head. 

“Weren’t you leaving?” Liv asks Noah acidly, and so Noah goes, giving Liv one last glance as he does. 

+++

By ten to six Robert’s cleared the table and washed up. Liv’s watched some telly and tried her best to pay attention to an episode of Pointless. She hates Pointless, but it’s always on before Aaron calls, and having it on and hearing that stupid music and those two posh idiots trying to be funny (and failing) is a bit of a ritual. Occasionally Robert calls out an answer, unable to help himself, the old version of himself slipping through, showing off. But without Aaron there to tease him or look at him like he’s Einstein, there's not really any fun in it.

At five to six, Liv is back at the kitchen table, television turned off, waiting. Robert is pacing the kitchen, cleaning things that don’t need to be cleaned. He’s forgotten to put the salt and pepper away in his fluster, but Liv can’t be bothered to remind him. She’s not dared to check her own phone in minutes, finally chucking it down on the sofa and leaving it there. She’s not having some hateful message ruin her time talking to Aaron. She can’t afford to have any distractions, not during this precious time. Just having Robert flapping about behind her is doing her head in so badly she wants to scream. 

At six, Robert brings the phone over and finally settles beside her. He won’t stop fidgeting, which is seriously unlike him. It’s more like Aaron, really, who’s always fiddling with his engagement ring or shaking his foot until someone tells him to stop. 

At one minute past, Aaron’s not called. Liv feels nervous, and then guilty right after, because who feels nervous about talking to their own brother? Robert is holding his breath without realising. 

At two minutes past there’s still nothing. Liv is getting sick of that photo of Robert and Aaron in their Christmas jumpers Robert uses as his home screen. Robert is starting to worry that something’s wrong. This happens every night. His imagination goes into overdrive, thinking up hideous scenarios in which Aaron is the target of a whole gang of thugs, where he’s bruised and beaten, crying himself to sleep. _Don’t be an idiot,_ Robert tells himself. That sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life. If Aaron was here he’d tell him he’d seen too many films and to stop being soft. 

But Aaron's not there. Which is exactly the problem.

Finally, the phone rings. Robert jumps and can’t hit the button fast enough. 

+++

Aaron’s just hung up. Robert and Liv are trying to pretend they aren’t hurt by the speed at which he seemed to slam the phone down, almost like he couldn’t get away fast enough. 

It takes Robert a few moments to realise he didn’t tell Aaron he loved him at the end of the call. Immediately he feels sick with regret. He feels like an idiot. His chest aches. 

“I didn’t say I loved him,” Robert says out loud. 

“Yeah, well, he can hardly say it back, can he?” Liv points out, in that grown-up way of hers. She's always on a downer after Aaron calls. For the few minutes they're talking, she seems to be back to her old self again, but the moment he hangs up she seems to register how abnormal this all is, and retreat into herself for a while. Robert understands and respects this, but it's still hard when the only other person truly missing Aaron as much as he is goes into what could pass as a sulk following his calls.

“He says it’s all right in there," Robert says. "Obviously there’s the odd piece of work, but he’s not having to hide it. He’s coping.” 

Liv shrugs. 

“Still," she says. "You don’t want to look too soft when you’re inside.” 

They lapse into silence. Neither one of them gets up from the table. 

“Did he sound all right to you?” Robert asks, unable to stop himself from fretting. Aaron had definitely been emotional during the phone call, which shouldn't be particularly concerning considering it's their only daily contact and prison life is bound to be overwhelming, but already a hundred terrible scenarios are forming in Robert’s head. 

“Yes,” Liv lies, because there’s nothing they can do about it anyway, even if Aaron is missing them so much that it’s hurting him. 

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, convincing himself it’s the truth. “I mean, he’d tell us if there was something wrong, wouldn’t he?” 

Liv thinks about all she’s hiding from Aaron and knows instantly what the answer to that question is. 

“Course,” she lies again. 

Robert thinks about the new graffiti on the front of Mill Cottage, of being unable to sleep alone in their bed, of finding it hard to sleep at all, and how he hasn’t told Aaron one single thing about any of it. 

“Best go and see where Noah’s got to,” Robert remarks swiftly, taking his phone and getting up. He pats Liv on the shoulder before he goes. 

Liv closes her eyes for a brief moment, wishing she wasn’t so stubborn. Wishing she could just swallow her pride and ask for a hug. But she’s Liv Flaherty, Aaron Dingle’s little sister, and she can look out for herself. 

+++

It’s ten o’clock and the messages keep coming. Liv’s given up on trying to sleep by now. She knows Robert isn’t sleeping in his and Aaron’s bedroom anymore, so he isn’t likely to come and find her sitting on the landing any time soon. It’s more lonely than it should be, living in this pub with two other people. It’s scarier too. Especially with the threats she keeps getting sent. Especially being so far away from Aaron and not being able to protect him. 

Every night Liv wonders if she’ll wake up the next morning to the news that Aaron’s topped himself in jail. The fear isn’t fading as the days go on. If anything, it's getting worse.

Downstairs, in the back room, Robert turns the lights out and tries to get comfortable on the sofa. He’s far too tall to fit without waking up aching in the morning, but he’s making do. If Aaron’s in some stinking cell on a cheap mattress, he can deal with the sofa and this ugly purple duvet. 

 _I wish I’d said ‘I love you’_ , Robert thinks, as he turns onto his side and curls in on himself. He knows he can say it tomorrow, but tomorrow is hours and hours away, and Robert feels every minute without Aaron like physical pain. He feels it like bruises on his skin.

He turns to glance at the door self-consciously, before taking one of the sofa pillows and arranging it in his arms. It’s nothing like Aaron, but if he can just trick himself for long enough, he might manage to get some sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please do leave me a comment if you can! It will make my day! 
> 
> xxx


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